


The Price Of Paradise

by Green_Arrows_of_Karamel (Mare9548)



Series: Olicity VD Smut-a-thon [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Play, Domme!Felicity, Domme/sub, Edging, F/M, Femdom, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kinky sex, Malesub, Olicity Valentine's Smut-A-Thon, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, anklecuffs, blowjob, facesitting, handjob, kinky smut, olicity smut-a-thon 2017, rope, slow burn smut, sub!oliver, tease and denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mare9548/pseuds/Green_Arrows_of_Karamel
Summary: Nothing turns Felicity more than having Oliver helplessly bound to her mercy. To celebrate Valentine's Day, she plans a special and very hot night with the purpose of blowing his mind away. She knows that it won't be easy on him but getting to the paradise has a price and Oliver is willing to pay it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello naughty darlings,
> 
> Here I come with my piece for [olicityvalentinesdaysmut-a-thon](https//:olicityvalentinesdaysmut-a-thon.tumblr.com), and the prompt I was given was “69”. Such simple and delightful number, right? First, I want to thank Meg and Lyn for setting this up. You did an amazing job (and you both know that I know how much work it is doing something like this. So thanks ladies for your awesome labor). I want to thank also to my talented dearie Mel for doing such gorgeous cover art for me (I love it, thank you so much!) and for your endless support.
> 
> Second, let’s talk about the fic, shall we? This is me of whom we’re talking about, so, of course, I carried away a bit, I wrote much more than just Olicity doing a 69, so I ended up writing 6 times more words than what I needed to. Surprised anyone? No. That was what I thought. I hope you’re ready for this because oh… my… gosh!! I feel obligated to give you a fair double warning. In first place, this contains explicit sexual content, so underage, go away, this isn’t for you. Also, if you’re an adult, but squeamish of anything related to BDSM, this isn’t for you either. You can walk away, I won’t be offended, I promise.
> 
> The rest of you, be ready to be melted in a pool of lava. Being faithful to the dare, this is the smuttiest smut of all smut. The rest of the warning, this time, is for fluffy feels. The second part of the fic is pure teeth-rotting fluff in its maximum expression. So, you’ve been warned.
> 
> I think I’ve talked enough, and you’re here to know all the wicked things that Olicity are doing, so, I wish you a happy reading. Enjoy!!!

 

His body trembled as if Oliver stood at the epicenter of an earth-shattering quake. He shuddered by the sheer power of the all-consuming need, much like liquefied and scalding rock, running through the core of his very being. Spellbind by it. A captive. Becoming a prisoner of fire, unable of escaping the ravaging passion. It was more than what he could bear. Sensations overrode his brain and he was no longer capable of thinking straight. Oliver said goodbye to his sanity and volition hours ago and he wasn’t sure of when he’d get them back. Nor, if he ever wanted to. All that he could do was to feel. Be a slave of his senses, taking whatever pleasure or torment Felicity wanted to inflict on him. With no reservations, he had stripped himself of his free will and submitted to her whims. Naughty whims and wicked desires.

That’s how he ended up in bed helplessly gagged and restrained, silky rope tying his hands over his head to the headboard and a spreader bar fastened to his ankles that kept his legs apart, while she subjected him to her sweet torture. She had been edging him for hours —days, to tell the truth— without letting him reach an orgasm.

Three weeks earlier, she presented him a dare. Felicity wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day, making the occasion memorable for him, so, she challenged him to go through orgasm denial until February 14. The unimaginable pleasures that she promised, if he made it, excited him beyond belief. He accepted at once. How could he not? The competitive trait of his personality exhorted him; dares were to him what mysteries were to her, something from what they couldn’t run. Not ever. Since he and Felicity started exploring BDSM together, they hadn’t taken a particular interest for orgasm denial for extended periods of time, but he liked the idea of giving Felicity more power over him. Ceding the control turned him on, so during the last few weeks, Felicity allowed him to cum the exact amount of two times. No more. For each climax, he waited more time to get it. Twelve days passed since the last time. An eternity. A short interval for others, but not for him.

At the beginning, it had been easier than what he anticipated it. Sure, naughty thoughts about sex and pleasure invaded his mind in a higher frequency, but that was it. However, as the time gap between a climax and the next grew exponentially, he got to a constant state of arousal. The most innocent thoughts could make him hard as a rock, and he dripped precum all day long.

To make things worse —or better, he wasn’t sure— Felicity spent time giving him a good deal of sexual attention. Most likely, what made him be so aware of it was the state of denial. With untiring determination and wickedness, she teased him in every opportunity she could. Relentless. Merciless. He got naughty texts from her at all hours. Every time he was within her reach, she groped him. She brought him to the brink of climax countless times, and then walked away from him, leaving Oliver to sink in a sea of frustration and desire which was the opposite of what she was experimenting. Unlike him, she never renounced to orgasms. Oliver was obliged to pleasure her often and in creative ways. Tongue, hands, toys; all were valid. All, except his cock.

He was tempted to jerk himself off in more of one occasion. What stopped him from doing it was the thought of pleasing Felicity. He craved receiving her praises for being a good boy, being a good subbie and husband. Everything else paled in comparison to the pride for him shining with the force of a thousand suns in her eyes. Still, it had been three long weeks. Overwhelming. Humbling to the extreme as few things were in life. By the start of their celebration that evening, he was ready to explode. Now, hours down the line of devastating intense teasing and denial, his sanity was gone.

The echoes of a rumbling noise filled the room. A deep moan. It crashed into the red ball gag that Felicity put in his mouth earlier because he was being too loud, as another wave of pleasure rushed through him. Swift and fiery. While he was the object of her ravenous gaze, Felicity ran her wicked tongue along his impossibly hard and throbbing cock. She swept it over the vein on the underside of his shaft, and swirled it around his gland, tasting his precum. All the while, her magic fingers massaged and played with his balls, intensifying his pleasure.

“You can take it, a little more,” Felicity cooed, as she licked him like a lollipop. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”

When her cheeks dimpled and the corners of her eyes wrinkled, a wave of well-known trepidation rushed through Oliver and triggered a renewed bout of shivers; the way in which her lush lips curved up suggested that Felicity was having devilish thoughts.

Her mischievous ideas meant more torment for him.

Satisfaction through misery.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to want to be anywhere else. Getting a free pass to the paradise she promised wasn’t an option, and Oliver was willing to pay the price.

She moistened her own lips before opening her sinful mouth and taking in the sensitive head of his cock. Quick as lightning and hot as lava, the contact was so mind-boggling that made his hips bucked upward. A different type of frustration swelled up inside him when Felicity stopped her erotic torment and let his cock go, ending all stimulation. “I told you to stay still,” her sharp glare drilled into him as Felicity admonished him. Her displeasure, evident.

He didn’t need to see her raising her hand to know what would happen next. Instinct made him cringe before his brain registered the pain. Oliver tried to say he was sorry, but the sharp ache of his balls made him groan into the gag. The punishing slaps, three in a rapid succession, which should have thwarted his rampant need, all that they did was to heighten it. Each blow intensified the familiar heat at the base of his spine telling him that he was on the brink of climax. Again. It was strong and devastating. Imminent. All he needed was a last tiny push to send him over the edge. At that point, touching him in any way was enough to trigger the explosive orgasm. A simple lick or a stroke. Another slap on his balls would do it. Anything. However, he didn’t get any of those. Bracing herself up, Felicity put her hands on the bed on either side of him to look down at Oliver. She gave him a searing gaze from which it was impossible to escape or ignore.

“I’m assuming that you want to cum tonight, but if you don’t stay still, I’ll make you wait until tomorrow,” she warned him. The impassive expression on her face told him she meant business. Serious as a heart attack. Every time that Felicity took on her dominant role, her features shaped up to an inscrutable, stern beauty that captivated him as much as frightened him.

The wild throb of his heart blared in his ears and he breathed noisily through his nose, as horror filled him at the possibility that Felicity could delay his reward for another day. His capability of waiting another hour, much less twenty-four, had deserted him. Shaking his head no, several times, he pleaded into his gag, which muffled his words as much as distorted them. They got out as an incomprehensible gibberish. Oliver promised Felicity over and over again that he’d stay still, giving his vow that he'd behave. He not only used words —as unintelligible as they were— to convey his meaning. Staring at Felicity, he poured out through his eyes the intensity of his need.

To his good fortune, the connection between them transcended the use of words to communicate. Felicity got the message, loud and clear.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and be still?”

He nodded, frantic. Desperate. Oliver would do whatever she wanted, as long as she let him cum. She could have asked him for the moon and he’d find a way to bring it to her. Felicity could’ve asked him to murder anyone and he would’ve taken that person’s life, being far more ruthless than he ever was in his darkest years. That was how much desperate he was.

For a long minute, Oliver thought she wouldn’t take pity on him. He could have sworn that she was going to tease him again, and this time, she would push him off the brink. Nonetheless, her delight for tormenting him was clear as day. To his frustration, Felicity pulled away from above him and stretched out on the bed next to him, leaning on her elbow. Using her free hand, she followed upward the contours of his abdomen, her delicate fingertips brushing over his aflame and sensitive skin, drenched in sweat. His muscles spasmed under her tickling exploration, as he wished she would reverse the course of her gesture because, every time that his heart thumped steadfast in his chest, her hand went further and further away from where he wanted to be touched. Felicity took her time to delineate each and every one of his scars and tattoos, keeping her distance from his long, thick dick, resting mere fractions of an inch away. So close, and yet so far.

He asked her once why his scars fascinated her to the point of distraction because he couldn’t see why they would. For him, they were a reminder of the worst part of his life. On the flip side, for her, they were a testimony to his strength, and she didn’t mean physical power, rather than the strength of his character. Few people, other than him, would have come out a hero at the other end of the crucible he survived, she told him. She believed that each of those scars pointed at how much, invariably and selfishly, he gave away parts of himself for what he believed in, for what he cared about, having no regard for how much it would cost to his person.

Felicity was the person who had made him believe that he was truly a hero… a good man, with an extraordinary heart. Nobody else had been capable of tearing down all those thick walls he built, barriers with the exhausting task of hiding the darkness and guilt he kept in the most profound crack of his being. She showed him that was always another road to take. Like an alluring firefly, or could be as a babbling fairy, she compelled him to travel the difficult path to redemption, harnessing his own inner light. Taking back the humanity that he neglected for so long. Oliver was in awe of the grace and smoothness with which she had pried his eyes —and heart— open, always with love, but never putting with his shit. For all that and more, he loved her. He trusted her with his life, heart, and soul. That was why he threw himself at her mercy. Free of doubt and fear. His wife took him time and again beyond the limits of what he ever dreamed, but never had he believed that harm would come to him under her sinful loving care.

Of course, anyone could debate that driving him to the edge of insanity could be considered as safe. But he knew different. Lust-driven madness was something to what he’d never say no. It allowed him to forget the world and focus all his attention on her, along with the delights that Felicity could provide for him. Turned out the respite to his chaotic life, the moment in which he no longer carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and could give free rein to those deep desires that he had hidden for so long.

Taking the same effort of laying open his darkest side, Felicity also disclosed his most hidden fantasies. Dirty chimeras that never dared himself to breathe to anyone. Dreams that he thought would never come true, but she alone dragged them out to satisfy the submissive side of him. He doubted that anyone else in the world could have done that. Not in the past, or in the present. Much less in the future.

He belonged to her, and _only_ to her.

She could do whatever she wanted with him.

Like teasing and taunting with a slow, sensuous petting on his chest, encircling his nipples. Although, Felicity was careful to avoid them. That was the theme of the night, wasn’t it? To tempt and deny him what he wanted. He moaned as she trailed her ticklish fingertips on his pectorals, changing sides back and forth.

“What… does that feels good?”

He nodded.

“You want more?”

He nodded again and asked her to touch them, his nipples, but his begging came out nothing like it.

“Let me take this out,” she said, kneeling up on the bed and reaching out behind his head for the buckle that was keeping the ball gag in place. “You promise to hush your screams before the neighbors start thinking that I’m killing you, right?”

Murdering him, she was, but in her most delicious style. If you asked Oliver, that was the way to go. In any case, their nosy neighbors could get the wrong impression, indeed. He didn’t care what they thought neither did Felicity, not really. What they didn’t want to deal with was the almost compulsory gossip leaking to the press. It wouldn’t be the first time for that to happen. Any so-called journalist with questionable ethic would never miss the opportunity of trying to sully his reputation as Star City’s mayor, even now when he had become the mayor with the highest approval rating in history. That didn't happen from one day to the next, but now, as his last period in office was ending, people appreciated the notable difference that his administration did to the city.

“You know what will happen if you’re not.”

The gag would be back in and, most likely, he’d get a more painful punishment, too, resulting in another delay to reach the orgasm for which he was so desperate. Felicity waited until he promised to behave with a nod of his head to unfasten the gag. Oliver suppressed a moan of relief once his mouth was without the silicone ball. He opened and closed his mouth several times, getting used to moving again and soothing the stiffness of his jaw, while Felicity wiped off his chin the excess of drool that was an inevitability wearing any type of gag.

“Now… what were you saying?” she questioned him, sitting back on her heels.

“I want you to touch me, please,” he panted, his voice hoarse with need.

Felicity smirked, erotic malice twinkling in her eyes. To his surprise, she complied his request. He breathed in sharply and moaned when she dragged her bright-green-polished fingernails over his skin, scratching his puckered nipples. “Like this?”

He shook his head in affirmation, swallowing the vile curse on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t fail in his promise of keeping quiet. His actions didn’t pass unnoticed. Felicity was pleased with his effort and she let him know that by gently rolling his nipples between her thumb and her forefinger.

“Hmm… I love watching your nipples getting hard. They are so responsive.”

Yes, they were. Every time she teased them, electric jolts sprang from the sensitive buds out going straight to his groin, boosting the throb of his cock. A woman’s tits were sensitive, he learned that at a young age, but never did he conceive that men’s nipples could be likewise tender. He loved when she played harshly with his.

“I’m wondering if I could train you to cum only teasing these.”

Oliver kept his thoughts to himself and closed his eyes. After all, Felicity didn’t expect him to reply to her musing. He had little to no saying on the matter because, if she wanted to train him to do that, she would. She was a force of nature and when she set her mind to something she wanted to do, there were nothing and nobody capable of deterring her. What was more, he would respond to the training; Oliver was sure of it. It didn’t matter how long would it take to accomplish it, in the end, Felicity would get what she wanted. His Mistress had conditioned his mind and body to respond to certain words and touches, in a way that he thought was impossible. But there he was, avid for the elation that meant to be called a “good boy” or to feel pleasure when she spanked him. By traditional conventions, pain shouldn’t feel good, and yet, he could feel a bliss because of it that he never knew before.

“Oh, God,” he whimpered, as Felicity’s fingers trailed south to his stomach.

“You like when I touch you here?”

“Yes.”

“Where else would you like me to touch you?”

“Touch my cock,” was his strangled plead.

Holding his breath, Oliver watched as her hand went down, down, down. Closer, closer. Oh, so slowly. His cock grew larger and thicker, jolting up in search of her touch, “Please, please.”

“I touch your dick, and then what?”

Oliver let out a long sigh. He knew what she was doing; Felicity wanted him to tell her in exact words what he wanted. She wanted him to beg with everything he had. Imploring was one of the main kinks they had. The sense of helplessness that came with it was what makes his blood boil, likewise having absolute control did to Felicity. “I want to cum. Let me cum, I’ll do anything you want, just… please!”

He choked and rolled his head back, while his limbs strained the bindings holding him secure to the bed, when Felicity wrapped her expert fingers around his dick, stroking him to a maddeningly slow pace, “You’ve been such a good boy,” she began, “you’ve done well, pet, and you deserve a reward. But there’s one last price to pay for it.”

“Name it! I’ll do anything you want. Just say it and I’ll do it,” he jabbered. “Oh, fuck!”

She hummed in delight, brushing her thumb and smeared down his shaft the precum leaking from the tip. Without stopping the strokes on his, now, slick cock, Felicity leaned her head down and nuzzled his jaw and neck, giving him small licks with the tip of her tongue. She followed a trail to his ear, where her hot breath tickled him as she spoke, “Oh, my love, I’m so wet. I’m feeling my juices running down. That’s all your doing, Oliver.”

The imagery provoked a rush of heat going through Oliver like a wildfire. He didn’t need to evoke the memory of her taste because he could smell it in the air. His mouth watered, craving the manna from Heaven. “I so ready and needy for you,” she continued, as she nibbled his earlobe. “I want you to blow my mind, baby, and then I’ll blow yours.”

“May I eat your pussy, Mistress, please? Let me taste you, let me…”

Oliver trailed off as she pulled away from him. His breathing raged as she moved with a voluptuous poise, unique to her. He gasped in delight as she straddled his head, giving her back to the headboard. Right then, he wanted to taste her with a ferocity that overwhelmed him. It was primitive and all-consuming. And all he could think of was Felicity. The unfulfilled need that had absorbed him most of the night didn’t matter anymore. All he cared about was to give pleasure to his wife, his mistress. When she plunged down on top his face, he breathed her in deeply and nudged his nose to her rosebud hidden in the crack of her back cheeks. Oxygen didn’t sustain his life any longer, her scent did.

Shaking from the force of his lust, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to taste the sweetness of her body that he craved most. Oliver growled at the taste of her. His body was so hard and ready, but he had no other choice but to control those urges. Right now, it was her orgasm he was after. He could spend the rest of the night like that, just savoring her.

He could have done it if it weren’t because she leaned forward and brushed her hands through the hair at the juncture of his thighs then played gently with him. It was difficult to focus on taking her to orgasm when Felicity was trying to do the same with him and more when he had been on the edge for so long. Blocking the pleasure she was giving him was an impossible task, but he had to do it. He knew what would happen if he came before she did.

Oliver reveled in the flavor of her hot juices pouring into his mouth and the sound of her murmured pleasure echoing in his ear. Felicity’s body responded to every careful, sensual lick he delivered to her. Over and over, in and out, he delved and licked, making her breathless. Weak. Knowing better than to rush things along, he took his time to devour Felicity’s pussy. Swirling and probing with his tongue, he explored her inflamed folds. With unrestrained lust, she writhed in response to him. Pleasure made her thighs and buttocks quivered against his cheeks and chin, as he tongued her at a leisured pace. Her clit was erected, protruding from its hood, but he avoided it as he pressed his tongue against the opening of her wet pussy. Flattening his tongue, he stroked her sex firmly at first, but then lightly brushed over her clit. He grinned when she tilted her hips and pressed her pussy harder against his face.

Every time that he hit a good spot with his tongue, the stroking of her hand over his cock became more vigorous and faster. Then, she took him in her mouth and, for a moment, he thought that he’d lose the control of himself. He shivered at the sensation of her tongue swirling and teasing him with pure bliss, pleasure speared him to the bed with an efficiency surpassing the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Her intensity and skills were incredible.

Oliver forced himself to pace up and taking Felicity closer to the climax, he couldn’t hold off for much longer. He pulled her clit into his mouth with his lips and flicked his tongue over the tip, a light brush at first. “Oh God! Don’t stop! Oh, ohhh, ohhhhh! Yesssssss!” she screamed, letting his cock go.

Instead of lamenting the lack of stimulus, Oliver appreciated the reprieve and got all his energies in full throttle to do what he needed to do. In turns, her thighs relaxed then tried to clamp against his head like a vise grip. Emboldened by her response, Oliver tongued her clit faster. Faster and harder. She trembled on the brink, holding onto his abdomen. Then he swirled his tongue in the way she liked it and which guaranteed it that he’d blow her mind.

Her release came as explosive as he knew it would. Screaming his name, she held nothing back, just like everything else she did in life. She squeezed his face hard between her thighs, cutting his air supply, but Oliver didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that Felicity was coming undone with pleasure, that it was him who made her flew apart Still, he continued, driving her pleasure on until she climaxed again, hard on the heels of the first one. Each stroke of his tongue drew another shudder from her until she lifted his hips off his face. “Enough! Enough,” she whimpered, slumping down on top of him, spent and sated. Felicity gasped for breath as hard as Oliver did. Her hot exhalations ghosted over his skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. It took her a couple of minutes for her to catch some breath.

In the quiet moments after that, Felicity’s fingers found their way again to his cock, making him shudder. She pulled herself up and looked back at him. “Now, it’s your turn.”

Oliver didn’t have the time to appreciate that his moment had come at last… what he had waited for so long was finally within his reach. But his brain pulled the plug to reality when Felicity took him into her mouth and pleasure ripped through him. His body went as taut as a string while Felicity hollowed her cheeks, sucking him hard and moving her head up and down. One of her hands twisted around the base of his cock while the other cupped his balls. Felicity took his length deeper and deeper each time that she dipped her head until his tip hit the back of her throat. The little of his sanity that remained forced Oliver to stay still, even when all he wanted to do was to push his hips up and drove his cock deeper into her mouth.

“Fuuuuck!!” when Felicity lowered herself on him again, taking him completely down her throat, Oliver lost all control. His eyes rolled back as he roared and shook harder. He screamed until he lost his voice as his body exploded like a volcano, releasing all that lust slowly pent-up inside him for three weeks. Oliver believed that every cell in his body burst apart and scattered through the universe, taking his mind to the paradise. Submerging him into the purest ecstasy that he ever knew. Total bliss.

Nothing else mattered but his pleasure.

 

As Felicity savored the remains of Oliver’s seed in her mouth, she struggled to get off his face as the last vestiges of the mind-blowing orgasm ran through him. She hadn’t regained back the total control of the muscles yet. The orgasms he gave her earlier made her legs weak. Felicity held off his face while she deep-throated him, but barely, and the risk of suffocating him gave her enough incentive to move now. If Oliver had experienced a pleasure matching her own, and she knew that he had, then most likely, he was out of his mind. Unable of detecting anything, not even the lack of oxygen, except the bliss consuming him. Glancing at his face, she confirmed it.

His eyes were half-closed and glazed, unseeing. Oliver lay there, trying to catch his breath. Felicity brushed her thumb over his brow to wipe the fine beads of sweat on it and cooed soft praises, giving him the credit for being a good boy. Her beloved pet. He sighed in content and closed his eyes in response, but she doubted that he was actually listening any word she said. She couldn’t blame him for the absence of a proper reply, Oliver was on an ecstasy trip, and not exactly synthetic-drug-induced. Rather, thanks to the hormones and chemicals, like endorphins and serotonin, swamping his bloodstream and brain.

She pressed her lips against his face, delivering tender kisses. Soft as butterfly wings. Kisses that might be lost to Oliver as he flew away from reality. The ecstatic state of his mind dampened his ability to perceive stimuli. Either gentle or mean. So, that’s why she took extra care untying his limbs. She loosened the knots of the rope that secured his wrists and lowered his arms, gradually, to spare him the ache of a sudden change of position. Then, she unbuckled the cuffs attached to the spreader bar, freeing his ankles.

“Felicity,” Oliver croaked, flexing his fingers as if he was trying to reach out to her, but didn’t have enough strength.

“I’m here,” wasting no time, she took his hand in hers and crawled up on the bed until she was in his line of sight. “Hey…”

“Hi,” he opened his eyes and smiled like a loon.

“Are you back?”

His forehead wrinkled, verging on the imperceptible, as confusion made its way through his fogged mind. “Back? Where did I — Did I go somewhere?”

Felicity chuckled, smothering his creased brow with her thumb, “Wouldn’t you say I sent you to heaven?”

As her meaning dawned on him at last, he nodded and grinned. Oliver blinked and opened his eyes wider, which let her distinguish his deepest feelings, reflected in the intensity of his glance. They left in evidence how much he adored her. “You could say that, yeah. Thank you so much. That was amazing,” he sighed. He pushed himself up to his elbows to kiss her on the lips, so tenderly that it melted her heart. A tender, yet erotic kiss in which both could taste themselves in the mouth of the other.

“You’re welcome, my love. And, yes, it was beyond awesome,” she whispered against his delicious lips, their hot breath mingling. Felicity couldn’t help touching his nose with hers, a gesture that had become a signature for the two of them. Simple, yet meaningful and intimate wink that represented the quiet, soft side of their love in the midst of the feverish nature of their relationship.

Giving him a last quick kiss, she pulled away from him, “Can you sit all the way up?”

Gingerly and grunting, Oliver drew himself up into sitting position, as she turned to take a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from the nightstand. A precaution that she had taken, knowing that the evening would be intense, to say the least, and Felicity wanted to make sure that Oliver didn’t get dehydrated. The sugar and calories from the sweet would help him to recover faster from the high. Rounding back to him, she put both things in his hands. “Drink and eat these, while I prepare a bath for you.”

She stood up, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrist before she could put any distance between them. The hold of his calloused, strong hand was gentle, perceptible in the minimum. Little strength could have been necessary to break the grip in an instant, but Felicity twisted her wrist to hold Oliver’s instead, in the same way, that he was holding her. Felicity wrapped her slender fingers and stroked the back of her husband’s hand.

“Isn’t it that my job?” he asked, mimicking her gentle massage on her hand. “Mistresses don’t do that; only slaves do,” he teased, lifting one corner of his lips.

Felicity bit her inner cheeks, preventing a smile from breaking in her face. She shouldn’t be amused by his cheekiness, and yet, it was hard to hold the laughter. Oliver couldn't resist being a brat from time to time and he looked adorable with a smug expression on his face. He was right after all. Usually, he'd give her a bath as part of his duties as her submissive. In their relationship, he was who craved to be of service. Nevertheless, she couldn’t let him forget who of the two of them was in charge. “Says who?” she countered, without pausing the motion of her thumb as an indication of her half-hearted chiding. “Mistresses can do whatever they want. They can bathe their pets if that’s it what they desire. And I have the whim to do so. You earned it. So eat and drink, before I change my mind,” she cautioned, playfully slapping his cheek. “Otherwise, you’re getting a spanking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Felicity struggled harder the urge to curve her lips, as his shaking words reached her ears. Despite the mischievousness in the tone she used, the warning wasn’t in vain, and Oliver knew it. And yet, a part of him craved the soreness of a good spanking. She made a mental note of giving him one. By no means would she do it that night, but soon the time for a _fun_ ishment would come. Futile was to deny that both loved when he lay across her lap as she reddened his ass cheeks with her bare hand.

Oliver uncapped the bottle and drank a large gulp of water before munching the chocolate bar. With the parting words of “good boy”, Felicity walked toward their bathroom. While she padded the short distance, a familiar heat engulfed her. Head to toe. No need for her to turn around to know what had provoked it. Oliver’s gaze roamed over her naked body, as tangible as his fingers would be, if they trailed them down on her back instead of his eyes. She sauntered and teased him, swinging her hips side to side with a calculated and entrancing rhythm until she was out of his sight.

Inside the master bathroom, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and opened the tap to adjust the temperature of the flowing water; a warm bath was what Oliver needed. As the bathtub filled up, she scattered Oliver’s favorite bath salts in the water and lighted up some vanilla-scented candle, the sweet aroma would help to create an air of romanticism. Then, she went back to the bedroom, finding her husband holding the last bit of candy in his hand. She approached him when offered it to her.

“The last piece is for you, Mistress.”

“Thank you,” she said before she opened her mouth as a silent command for Oliver to feed her. Felicity sucked his fingers as he put the small square in her mouth, eliciting a soft moan from him. She couldn’t stop teasing him. To get blatant responses from her pet was something to which Felicity had become addicted.

The sweet melted on her tongue, leaving in its wake the delicious taste of chocolate. Warm, complex sweetness balanced by a cutting piquancy, qualities that reminded her of her husband, who was as delightful and succulent, even in his sharpest moments. “Now, come. Let’s get you that bath. It’s gonna do you good,” she took his hand and urged him to stand on his feet.

He followed her as she tugged him into the bathroom. Heading toward the tub, Oliver let go her hand and unbuckled his submissive collar wrapped around his neck, to protect it from getting wet. Once off, he held the thin band up to his lips and kissed it, demonstrating adoration for what was the most tangible symbol of his submission. Felicity took it from him and copied the gesture, showing the same respect. This time not as a token of submission, but as the reminder of the responsibility she had as Oliver’s mistress. Like the wedding bands in their left hands, that collar represented the life commitment they both had to each other. The rings were the embodiment of their love and marriage for everyone to see, while the leather neckpiece represented their union in a much more private and soul-deep level. She left the neckband on the sink counter, safe and sound, as her husband got in the bathtub, letting out a satisfied sigh once he sat in the water.

Felicity sat on the brim of the tub, keeping her eyes on Oliver and pouring some of the warm water on him, “Good, huh?”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

Felicity beamed, as she grabbed a body sponge and began to scrub his back, with slow, delicate moves, washing his skin off. She paid special attention to his shoulders, knowing that they would be somewhat sore, and continued with his arms, having the same care and tenderness. Later came the turn to bathe the front of his torso. “Why don’t you lie back and relax,” she urged him when she noticed he was making an effort to remain upright. “I’ll take care of you.”

But he didn’t move.

“Oliver?”

“Sorry… I just— I’m thinking that if I relax, I’m going to drift under the water. You exhausted me that much.”

“Oh, my love,” she giggled. “I got an idea. Scoot forward.”

He looked at her confused, but did what she asked, leaving enough space for what she intended. Carefully, she got in the tub and sat right behind him, spreading her legs apart, so Oliver could settle himself between them. “Now, lean on me.”

“I’m gonna crush you.”

“Lean back.”

With obvious reluctance, he sagged against her, resting his back on her chest and the back of his head on one of her shoulders. Oliver’s weight didn’t bother to her. She loved it, in fact. It felt good. “Shh, I’ve got you. Relax,” she whispered in his ear as she wrapped one of her arms around his torso under his armpit, and her legs around his waist. “You’re safe with me; I won’t let you go anywhere.” As she spoke, Oliver unwound his body, bit by bit. Continuing the bath, Felicity scrubbed and massaged all the part of his body that she could reach, which made Oliver relax even further.

“Did I tell you today that I love you?” he asked her, after a few minutes.

“Only a couple of dozen, but I never tired of hearing it.”

He smiled dreamingly, and took her left hand and intertwined their fingers, “I love you, Felicity Smoak-Queen. As my best friend, partner, wife and mistress. And I will love until my last breath.”

When Oliver declared those exact words to her for the first time on their wedding day, three years before… well, he omitted “mistress” back then. The dynamic of their marriage was nobody’s business, but theirs, and telling the truth, Felicity doubted that any of their family or friends was interested in knowing how kinky they could get in the bedroom. Anyway, there was not an occasion in which those words didn’t bring happy tears to her eyes the countless times that Oliver had repeated them since then. This one was no different. Felicity cherished the sincerity and deep emotion behind the declaration; they were absolute. After all that they went through the years, after the ups and downs that they had on the road, their love had prevailed. She had not an ounce of doubt that he loved her. He loved her as much as she loved him. Oliver was her life. Her heart.

She blinked the tears away and tightened her hold on Oliver. Nuzzling his neck, she whispered, “I love you, too. More than words can ever express. And I’m proud to call you _mine_.”

Oliver hummed with happiness and twisted himself in her arms so they could kiss. Soft, languid kisses mirroring the serene moment they were sharing. Calm, but not less meaningful or passionate than the wild kisses they had.

That was what they were. Yin and Yang. An everlasting balance between passion and peace. A spiritual synchronicity that translated itself to every aspect of their life. The effervescent love that was etched into every cell of their bodies and that inexorably intertwined them until death… and even after that. For the eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> Do I need to call an ambulance for someone? Or maybe lend you a tissue or a couple of AA batteries? *laughs wickedly*No? Well, if there's nothing else I can do for you, could you do something for me? If you leave me a comment, it'd make my day! Nothing big, just tell me if you like it. Kudos and bookmarks are also very appreciated.


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